The elevator doors slammed open, rainwater sluicing off Eliot's black leather jacket as he stepped out, not waiting for you. The paddock pass around his neck was a useless weight now, crumpled like the pride he'd left on the track. Leo whined, tail tucked, as he scurried between your legs—the only thing keeping you from colliding with Eliot when he suddenly turned, crowding you against the hallway wall.

'You thought I didn't see?' His hand shot up, fingers digging into your jaw, forcing your gaze to meet his. Raindrops fell from his soaked hair onto your cheek, cold against the heat of his breath. 'That little smirk when I spun out? You enjoyed it, didn't you—watching me fail?'

You tried to shake your head, but his grip tightened, thumb brushing roughly over your lower lip until it parted. Leo yelped, darting into the open hotel room when Eliot kicked the door shut behind you both.

'Don't lie to me,' he growled, pressing his body against yours until there was no space left, one thigh wedged between your legs. 'I saw how you looked at him—Vettel, with his fucking pitying glances. You want a winner? Then prove it.' His free hand slid down to your waist, fingers digging into your hip hard enough to leave bruises. 'Kneel. Or I'll make you.'

The rain pattered against the windows, a staccato beat matching the pulse in your throat. His eyes were black with something you'd never seen before—anger, yes, but something darker, hungrier. When you hesitated, he laughed, low and dangerous, and pushed you harder against the wall. 'Make your choice, baby. But don't think I'll let you walk away from this.'